


oh, may all god's children come to this - jschlatt - "local58"

by americanaspacecadet



Series: GoopCast / Lunch Club One Off Fics [3]
Category: Lunch Club, SMPLive
Genre: Blood and Gore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Local58 Inspired, Other, Paranoia, This is really fucking dark, anxiety inducing, please be careful when reading this, seriously ... pay attention to the tags and the note at the beginning.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23324506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanaspacecadet/pseuds/americanaspacecadet
Summary: you know what you've done.you've gone against Them.and now you pay the price.
Relationships: Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF)/You
Series: GoopCast / Lunch Club One Off Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556836
Comments: 16
Kudos: 74





	oh, may all god's children come to this - jschlatt - "local58"

**Author's Note:**

> please. i'm serious. if you're susceptible to being triggered by ANY of these warnings, PLEASE turn back. i'm just warning you now - this is being used to cope with what's happening in the world around us. READER DISCRETION IS SERIOUSLY FUCKING ADVISED. thank you. now, read at your own discretion. stay safe out there.

a shadow flashes by the window, blocking the red lamp on the neighbor’s garden for a moment. it catches your vision from the corner of your eye, but you shrug it off as late-night paranoia.

until a fist pounds on the window.

you jump, screaming at the man in your window as your dogs bark around you. you rush to the front door, flicking on the outdoor light and picking up the bat you keep by the door. you fling the door open, raising the bat to swing -

“stop!”

the voice is startlingly familiar, but fear and nausea still pump through your veins at the speed of sound, your heart nearly coming out of your ribs.

“just … let me in. help me out. please.”

you can see him more clearly now - torn clothing, blood staining the ripped fabric. dried blood shines crimson-brown in the weak porch light. you nearly drop the bat at the black eye slowly swelling on his face.

“fuck, shit, get in here,” you mutter, grabbing his arm. “i don’t need the cops roaming this bullshit neighborhood more than they already do.”

he grunts at the jostling movement, stumbling into your house. the dogs rush him, angrily growling - you snap at them to back off before slamming the door shut, locking it and cranking the deadbolt. you curse as blood drips onto the white carpet in the living room, and you quickly shoo the dogs into the porch before getting the boy into the bathroom. you gasp as you flick on the lights - the swaths of shadows in the night had hidden what real damage there’d been.

“what the fuck happened to you?”

the boy goes to talk, but can only gasp as another bolt of pain flashes through his body. he drops to the edge of the bathtub, blood flicking from the soaked fabric. you kneel down in front of him.

“you gotta ditch the clothes if i can do anything.”

he whimpers, teeth gritting as he peels off the nypd hoodie, and the black t-shirt underneath. he wiggles out of his sweatpants, and you can’t help the fear that floods your veins.

“They tried to warn us.”

“They’re full of shit!”

“ _ They fucking told us this would happen! _ ” the boy shrieks, nearly falling back into the rapidly filling tub as he grows lightheaded. “They told us not to look at the moon. They told us to stay inside. They told us to ignore the gps.” he grows frantic. “but i fought my way out. fought my way to you. and look where that fucking got me!”

your heart stops for a moment, ice cold fear freezing your limbs. They couldn’t be here yet. not now.

the tv blares to life with the infamous smpte bars.  _ my country tis of thee  _ begins to wearily crank from the speakers.

“we’re too late,” he says weakly, pulling your attention while taking your hand in his own, his blood turning the water a disgusting rusty tone. “They know what we’ve done. we can’t escape Them anymore.”

your heart shatters.

“james, there has to be something - ”

the boy coughs up blood. “there … is … nothing.”

you scream as he slips from you, head sinking below the copper-scented water. you flinch as the porch door slams open, crying as the gurgling yelps of your dogs travel through the house, their blood on yours and Their hands. you pull the gun from your waistband, lying on the floor, parallel with him.  _ victory position _ , They called it.  _ front lawn. face up. feet together. _

you obeyed, in the end.

after all,

you had nothing left to lose.

you press the muzzle to the roof of your mouth.

you give in.


End file.
